The Don's Wife

21 | Divorce Paper

"Change of plans." I said nonchalantly as the tip of my pen reached its final stroke.

"And that plan might be? What? Risking your position for your impatience?"

I looked to him and showed my disgust upon his remark. "No, who do you take me for?"

"To come up with an agreement, that's the plan. From the way I see things of late, I reckon she's reasonable enough to discuss the matter by now." That came out a bit bitter than I realized.

Micah went silent for a while, still wouldn't budge from where he stood, then spoke again.

"Sorry, but I just have to ask one more time. Are you sure that this is what you really want?" Something about his question rubbed me the wrong way.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I squinted my eyes at him.

Micah detected my soured mood and gulped. "What I meant to say is you..." He cleared his throat before he continued. "I just feel bad for her you know? She seems like a nice girl, and completely madly in love with you, for some reason."

"Love?" I laughed at such nugatory word.

"Please, she barely knows me. Either she has something going on behind the curtains or mistook her ideal romance fantasy for reality. I would say she's deranged."

"So ungrateful. You know, if I have a woman as pretty as her standing right before me, who bakes me desserts and looks at me like I'm her whole world, I would've immediately wife her up."

"What are you implying?" I stared him down and felt my jaw clenched at his words. 

"Just stating my opinion." He casually shrugged.

"Well, come back when your opinion matters to me."

As Micah was about to leave he turned to me once again. "Look, I just want you to think it through some more. Make sure that you won't regret anything later."

"Regret? Did you hit your head? It's what I've been dying for from the start." I couldn't help but feel amused by the nonsense he's spouting.

"And since when do you care about her? Don't tell me she's the one who talked you into this?" I scoffed at the idea, knowing how funny that would be.

"What? No, of course not! You know that's just too far-fetched."

"Honestly I wouldn't know, since you seemed to have taken quite a liking to her." I probed further.

"Okay, just because of what happened with your mother doesn't make all wo–"

But the moment I heard the mention of that woman coming out from the bastard's mouth, he had crossed the line. All the anger and frustration that had built up until this day came bursting out of me.

I slammed the table as I stood up, grabbed a bottle of whiskey near me by its neck and threw it at Micah's direction. Unfortunately he quickly dodged the bottle and let it shatter on the floor.

"I'D DARE YOU TO FINISH THAT SENTENCE!"

In shock by my sudden outrage he immediately lowered his head, realizing it was a subject he shouldn't touch upon. "My apologies, boss. I overstepped."

"You overstepped alright. You ought to learn your place." Micah only stayed still in silence.

"Consider this a warning. Now get the fuck out of my sight." I pointed at the door.

"Yes, boss." He nodded and finally left the room.

I looked outside the window to find the garden table already unoccupied.

For Micah to went so far as to defend her was quite surprising. He never cared about any women that I've been with let alone got along with them, yet with Rosalind he virtually idolized her. Same goes to Mary, she basically cradles her like a child. Not to mention those bastards out there as well, every single one of them seemed to be drawn to her like moths to a flame.

I'm aware that she's different. And that difference is what attracts people's attention, even mine.

But no matter how different she is, I need to constantly remind myself that at the end of the day she's still a woman. And women only breeds trouble. They're fickle, they cannot be trusted. One may look innocent and fragile, ...even cute, but inside they're all the same manipulative tricksters.

The only convenient things about them is for fucking and producing an heir. Nothing less, nothing more.

Call me a toxic asshole for all I care. It is how I keep myself in check.

Looking back on these days it dawned on me how pathetic I've been behaving.

Trapping myself in an endless series of unreasonable bad mood, looking out the window for hours like some fucking stalker, even allowing myself to hinder my own work.

All of that and for what? Some woman?

No, I've been too lenient.
I refuse to be one of those moths.

I've let things dragged long enough. The quicker I get her out of my life, the quicker I could be rid of this stifling emotion.

So let's get this over with and be done with it, Rosalind Alderidge.